Georgiana’s chin jutted in, taken aback that Felicity would make such a declaration in front of her mother, even in jest. She glanced around the group, but no one else seemed to blink twice at the statement.
“Mama and Papa were the epitome of a perfect marriage,” Felicity went on with a dreamy sigh. “It is what I have always aspired to have in a marriage.”
Georgiana’s gaze darted to Lydia, who had stiffened at her daughter’s words—not at the jest of an affair, but at the declaration of a loving marriage. The woman’s hand fluttered over her throat in a nervous gesture. But Georgiana blinked, and the tension, the panic, whatever it was, disappeared.
“Let us leave Fitzwilliam alone, children,” Lady Bentley murmured, smile firmly back in place.
Odd. Perhaps Lady Bentley’s marriage hadn’t been as perfect as her daughter believed. Georgiana knew all about facades. A vision of her father’s smiling, amused visage flitted through her mind. How deftly they could fool.
Georgiana discreetly glanced at Fitz, rolling her bottom lip in with her teeth. The teasing was loving, but—it was still teasing. Her heart stuttered, and she was sure it paused. Because she thought—that tight expression on her husband’s face? That thick swallow, like he could barely get his throat to work?—she thought that looked a lot like pain.
She grabbed a snifter and slowly swayed over to her husband.
Sometimes she wondered if she and her husband faced similar demons, two kindred lonely hearts. If maybe they had been brought together for a reason. That just maybe, a man weighed down by anxiety and apprehension but could lower his guard under the guise of another language, was meant to end up with the lonely, love-starved Italian girl.
She stopped before him; his head bent down toward his book. “For you,” she murmured, holding out the glass.
“Thank you,” he said rigidly, gaze not meeting hers as he accepted the brandy.
“You are sure you won’t join us?” Georgiana ventured.
Felix’s baritone rang through the library. “You know, Flick, I think you would have benefited from a tad more apprehension. If you had a touch of Fitzy’s anxiety”—Fitz stiffened—“I wouldn’t have to worry that you would sneak off and snuff out Wessex while he was sleeping.”
“What a marvelous idea, Fifi,” Felicity said with altogether too much enthusiasm.
Felix groaned, and a weak smile played across Fitz’s face.
He glanced at Georgiana and said quietly, “I’d prefer to read, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” she said with a soft smile, carefully keeping the hollow sensation in her stomach from her words and expression.
She made her way back to the coffee table and quickly took a sip of her brandy, needing to fill the hollowness with something, anything. She stared blindly into the amber liquid. Perhaps she had been mistaken earlier. The way he had held her, kissed her so reverently, as though she were important to him.
It had made her feel things. Things that twisted her insides, made her head spin, and filled her chest with a warm buzzing. Things she had never felt before. She cocked her head at her brandy. Well, that wasn’t quite right. It was relatively similar to being in one’s cups if she really thought about it. And she had no idea what it meant.
She glanced at her husband and caught him staring at her over the rim of his spectacles. For the briefest of moments, their gazes locked—held—and fireworks erupted in her stomach. And it wasn’t a measly shower of sparklers. No, it was Catherine Wheels. It was Roman Candles.
And then he hastily turned away, pushing the brim of his spectacles back up his nose, and busying himself back in his book. And just like a firework, the exploding lights inside fizzled and fell away.
She blinked, placing a hand over her belly. What on earth was wrong with her?
“All right, is everyone ready?” Felicity flopped to the ground, a very welcome distraction. “Felix, do the honors.”
Felix lit the brandy, blue and yellow flames emerging from the dish.
Felicity turned to Georgiana. “Now, we play a touch differently in this house. Normally, you snatch and eat as many raisins as you can, avoiding getting burned.But”—her eyes narrowed, and her lips curved in a smirk—“you have no way of knowing who wins playing that way.” She tapped the bowl in front of her. “Snatch ‘em and fill your bowl. Whoever has the most when they’re all gone wins!”
The yellow flames had dwindled, and now solely blue fire danced over the dish. Felix leaned over and sprinkled a pinch of little white crystals into the flickering fire. The flames popped and flared a brilliant gold just for a heartbeat. Georgiana’s eyes widened, and her breath caught.
“What was that?” she asked, her gaze trained on the flame. She had never played this game before, and she thought she shouldn’t be so excited to stick her fingers into fire. But…had she mentioned she lacked any sort of apprehension in life?
“Salt.” Felix grinned. “Just a little added flare.”
Georgiana was helpless but to grin back at his boyish excitement. She wasn’t sure there was anything more shocking than seeingtheLord Bentley casually cross-legged on the floor, about to partake in a not-so-friendly game of snapdragon. Georgiana glanced back at her husband. That wasn’t quite right. Her husband did his fair share of shocking her as well.
“Everyone ready?” Felicity’s gaze bounced between Georgiana and Felix.
Georgiana had never seen the girl more serious. But given how competitive she was learning this family was, she shouldn’t be surprised. Georgiana and Felix nodded.
